


always getting what you want

by tenebrism



Category: Infinite (Band), K-pop
Genre: Gangbang, M/M, Multi, PWP, my profound apologies, unquenchable thirst; unfathomable stubbornness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenebrism/pseuds/tenebrism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, it may not look like it, but this is still Woohyun's show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	always getting what you want

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt WRITE this so much as i violently purged it from my brain so it's a mess but i am probably not going to fix it. as usual. posting this for all of u who appreciate mediocre garbage as much as i do, this one goes out 2 u

It’s not that Woohyun can’t remember how he got here, kneeling on the floor with two fingers - no, three now - in his ass and more pressing his tongue down, but that everything leading up to it seems like a blur, distant compared to the reality of the moment.

Sunggyu couldn’t pin him like this if Woohyun really wanted to get away. That doesn’t really make Woohyun feel much better, as it means that he _wants_ to let Sunggyu win this round, but he’s at the very least not going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. But this - this is Woohyun’s show, okay, and Sunggyu is fucking up his staging with all these power games.

Woohyun maybe should have foreseen this problem.

It’s taking every ounce of self-control Woohyun has to not bite Sunggyu’s fingers bloody. He’s trying to be the bigger person here, which is kind of a lofty goal considering just this would be enough to turn him into a whining, drooling mess if he weren’t fighting to stay coherent out of spite.

Everyone is watching.

Dongwoo, somewhere off to the side, says, “Oh, be nice, hyung.” There’s a tremble in his voice but Woohyun can hear him smiling, still.

“That’s not what he wants,” Sunggyu says. Woohyun tries to argue with his mouth full, but it just comes out as a moan when Sunggyu gives his fingers a vicious twist. _You don’t know what I want_ , Woohyun wants to say, but it’s bullshit anyway. If the roles were reversed, Woohyun would know just how to take Sunggyu apart like this, and he would do it.

That doesn’t mean he can’t be bitter.

 

Rewinding, it started like this: Sunggyu wouldn’t let anyone touch him for what felt like the longest time. Woohyun had been on the bed, waiting, and Sunggyu had said, “What, you’re not going to work for it?” Woohyun had grumbled, “I always work for it,” but had gone along with it anyway, stripping down and touching himself almost defiantly. He wanted badly to be touched - anyone’s hands on him, he didn’t care - but he’d also realized that he could probably have gotten off just like that, just with the knowledge that they were _watching_ and they _wanted_ him. That was something to worry about some other time.

 

No, it _started_ like this: Woohyun still fully dressed, cross-legged on the bed, and Sunggyu bending a little at the waist to look him in the eye. He was searching for something, some sign of hesitation or uncertainty, but he wasn’t going to find any. This whole thing had been Woohyun’s idea, anyway; he’d asked for it, so at this point, it would be more humiliating to back out than to go through with it. Sunggyu’s hand had been gentle on his shoulder, and Woohyun had grinned and said, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to be so nice,” so maybe this whole disaster is his fault anyway.

 

If he could see Sunggyu now, Woohyun knows he could see that uncertainty in his face, that expression that means he’s trying so hard to look like he knows what he’s doing, like he’s in control, even when he isn’t. As it stands, he can’t see his face, but he can almost hear it in Sunggyu’s voice when he pulls his fingers out of Woohyun’s mouth and says, “What _do_ you want, Woohyun?”

Big question. “Does it matter?” he says, in lieu of a better, or more honest, response. Everything is very quiet.

“If you don’t tell us what you want,” Sunggyu says, and he’s very still, his free arm now wrapped around Woohyun’s chest, “how are we supposed to give it to you?”

Woohyun squirms. He wants - he just _wants_ \- wants everyone to stop staring and do something, like he knows they want to. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be here. “I don’t care,” he says. “Whatever you want,” and he’s going for aloof, probably, but realizes too late he sounds more desperate than anything.

Sunggyu is silent for a second, then says, “Okay then,” and pulls away. Woohyun gasps at the sudden loss and sits back on his heels.

There’s another moment of nervous stillness. Woohyun tilts his head up and starts to speak - “If you’re not gonna-” but someone else finally moves - Sungyeol - saying, “God, whatever you’re about to say, don’t.” Woohyun thinks Sungyeol’s hands are shaking while he undoes his jeans, but he might be imagining that.

Maybe it should be embarrassing, how eagerly Woohyun goes for it. He leans forward, up off his heels, to get his mouth on Sungyeol’s cock, no fanfare - he sucks it down greedily, and Sungyeol groans, fisting his hand in Woohyun’s hair. Sungyeol is not very polite about it, and Woohyun suspects he’s doing it on purpose, because he’s petty at the worst times; maybe Woohyun has slighted him by making Sungyeol confront that he wants to fuck him (which, _obviously_ , and Woohyun thinks he’s doing him a great service by allowing him this, but _some people_ couldn’t tell a blessing if it punched them in the dick).

Anyway, now isn’t really the time to worry about his technique. Woohyun focuses instead on trying to follow the erratic rhythm of Sungyeol’s hips without choking. It requires so much of his attention that he doesn’t notice movement around him until someone’s touching him, hesitantly at first, palms running down the length of his back to his ass, pulling his hips up. Sungyeol goes mostly still for a moment, and Woohyun pulls back, but Sungyeol’s hands keep him from turning his head.

The person behind him is still touching him like they’re just - sitting there, staring at him - and Woohyun would appreciate that, but at the moment - “If you’re going to fuck me, now would be - a good time,” he manages, before Sungyeol tries to maneuver Woohyun’s mouth back onto his cock.

“You talk - too much,” Sungyeol bites out in between ragged breaths, and any snappy retort Woohyun might have had is shoved back down his throat.

He finally feels insistent pressure stretching him open, and it fucking kills him that he can’t see, that he doesn’t get the satisfaction of knowing who it is yet, but the feeling of finally being filled like this is enough to make him forget his irritation. This - maybe this isn’t going exactly as planned. Woohyun may have overestimated his ability to retain control of his higher brain functions like this. Even now, it’s so much - Woohyun gets distracted for a second thinking about it, but Sungyeol’s dick slipping too far down his throat drags him back to reality.

He still wants to look, but mostly he doesn’t care; Sungyeol is getting close, he can tell - Woohyun can feel Sungyeol’s rhythm getting even less steady, can feel his muscles tensing under his hands. Whoever-it-is isn’t fucking Woohyun hard, really - deep and steady, but Woohyun wants _more_ , so he pushes his hips back uselessly in the vain hope that he’ll get the point. After a few moments, the pace quickens, and Woohyun whines around Sungyeol at the sudden shift; he feels an arm reach around his stomach, body leaning into him, pressing against his back.

Woohyun looks up - Sungyeol’s eyes are flicking between Woohyun (his face, his mouth) and the space behind him, then closing. Woohyun pulls his head back, wrapping a hand around Sungyeol’s cock and stroking at him quickly. “Myungsoo?” he half-gasps, grinning. “Is it?” There’s a breathy laugh behind him, and Sungyeol, too far gone to really respond, makes a choked-out noise and comes all over Woohyun’s face.

Maybe that wasn’t fair. Woohyun isn’t overly concerned; Myungsoo - it’s definitely Myungsoo - is still fucking him, harder now, and Woohyun loses his balance when Sungyeol pulls away, falling forward onto his hands. Now that Sungyeol isn’t blocking his vision, Woohyun can see the others have crowded closer, for the most part, a couple of them close enough to touch. Dongwoo kneels next to him and swipes a thumb through the wetness on his face - Woohyun turns his head, licks at Dongwoo’s thumb and closes his mouth around it, sucking it clean. Dongwoo laughs, startled.

Dongwoo keeps touching Woohyun’s face, and Woohyun doesn’t really know what to do but lean into it. “You’re so. Just. I didn’t really expect - you look so-” Dongwoo keeps talking, smiling, petting Woohyun’s face clean. “Wow.”

Woohyun’s dick is already aching, needing attention, but he’s resisting the urge to touch himself; it’s harder when he realizes Myungsoo is coming, draping himself over Woohyun’s back and making these little noises, quiet, muffled whimpers. Dongwoo’s hands are still on him when Myungsoo finally pulls away (he sort of - rolls off of Woohyun, collapses on his back on the floor for a second and lays there, just breathing).

“What do you want now?” Dongwoo asks, and Woohyun frowns again, wondering if Dongwoo and Sunggyu conspired to go all good-cop-bad-cop on him, and if he’s entirely willing to let them do it. It doesn’t matter. What Woohyun _wants_ is to be fucked, again, now; he wants to come, but he also doesn’t, wants to see everyone ruined from wanting him first. He feels like he’s both giving and taking - he’s selfish, he needs this, but he knows they need it too. Everyone has their frustrations to work out; he’s just giving them an outlet. He can almost convince himself it’s altruistic.

But he can’t say it - he knows if he lets himself say it now, he won’t be able to stop himself from saying _anything_ , and he refuses to be reduced to begging.

Instead, he just says, “Bed, now,” laughing. Dongwoo laughs with him, helping him to his feet. Woohyun’s knees are aching from the hard floor, so he just collapses onto his back, spread out on the mattress. He tries to take in what’s going on around him - who’s watching, who seems to be falling asleep (Myungsoo) - Sungjong saying something to Hoya that Woohyun can’t hear - and then Dongwoo kisses him, all soft and nice and not extremely fitting, in context. But it’s fine, it’s good - no one else has kissed him this whole time, the inconsiderate assholes.

Woohyun relaxes like that until he feels the bed shifting below his legs, hands - again, hesitant - touching and pushing at his thighs. He opens them without any fight before he looks (why does everything keep happening when he can’t see), then Dongwoo stops kissing him and Woohyun tilts his head up.

“Nice of you to join us,” he says, nonsensically, and hooks his legs around Hoya’s waist, urging him forward.

Hoya makes this panicked little noise - almost a laugh, not quite. Then his expression settles into something more determined, and his hands are firm on the back of Woohyun’s thighs, pushing them up and apart. Hoya drops one of his hands to guide himself in - no preamble, no more hesitation - and his cock is slick and Woohyun - Woohyun is beyond ready for it.

Hoya bottoms out inside him easily, then pauses, breaths shaky. Woohyun moves his hips kind of awkwardly, biting back a whine. “C’mon,” he almost-whispers, “just-” and Hoya slides almost out of him and then - slams his hips back, hard. Woohyun gasps, hand clutching at the sheets, and Hoya steadily works out an unforgiving rhythm, fast and hard and brutal.

Every time Woohyun catches Hoya really looking at him, Hoya flicks his eyes down like he regrets it, so Woohyun gets him by the back of his neck and pulls him down, kissing him deep and open. Hoya groans into his mouth - it slows him down, but it’s worth it. Woohyun lets him go after a moment - it’s too difficult to do anything useful with his mouth - and drops his head back, moaning, loud and wanton and kind of embarrassing, but - he’s way too distracted to care how stupid he sounds.

His hand hits someone’s knee, so he opens his eyes enough to look. Sungjong is kneeling there, watching, stroking himself lightly, so Woohyun runs his hand up Sungjong’s thigh to his cock, and Sungjong makes a pleased little noise when he moves his hand to let Woohyun’s replace it. Woohyun doesn’t really have the focus left to coordinate this motion, but he’ll do better later.

Woohyun’s free hand clutches at air - someone’s got him by the wrist now, just - holding it still, like they’re trying to keep him pinned down. As if they need to. That’s - Woohyun can’t think, not with Hoya slamming into him like this, with all the skin against him now, the hand on his wrist, his hand on Sungjong, someone - Dongwoo - putting his hands on whatever parts of Woohyun he can touch. Every nerve in his body feels keyed-up, electric. He can’t _think_ , not when he can barely feel anything beyond the physical sensation of getting fucked like this, out of his mind with it, finally.

When Hoya slows and finally goes still above him, Woohyun gets the chance to catch his breath. He whines a little despite himself as Hoya pulls out and moves away, the muscles in Woohyun’s legs aching as he relaxes on the bed again. The hand holding Woohyun’s wrist lets go, and Woohyun cranes his head back to see behind him -

Sunggyu is sitting at the head of the bed, looking at him, mouth slightly open.

Woohyun tries to smirk, to say something, but Sungjong is peeling his hand off and moving, and Woohyun has to look away.

Sungjong is kneeling between his legs now. He’s got one hand on Woohyun’s thigh, right above his knee, and he’s just - looking. As much as Woohyun needs the break - he doesn’t know how much longer he could have lasted like that - he’s still too tense, too worked up, and the endless pause is going to drive him insane.

“Doing okay, hyung?” he asks, his voice soft, his touch softer.

“Fantastic,” Woohyun says, propping himself up on his elbows. “Don’t worry about-”

“I’m not worried,” Sungjong says - then, firmly, “Lie back down.” Woohyun opens his mouth to protest, but Sungjong skates his hand up to Woohyun’s dick and gives it one long, slow stroke. Woohyun collapses back, easy, protests dying in his throat.

Sungjong barely has to touch him to maneuver him; Woohyun wants badly enough that he’s easily suggestible, anything to get what he needs. No one else is touching him anymore - just Sungjong’s hands, feather light, directing his knees up and apart. There’s a pause where Sungjong is slicking up his fingers, and then he’s pressing them into Woohyun. Woohyun lifts his hips up, too eager.

After all that led up to it, this is nothing - Sungjong fucking him with just two fingers, curling and spreading them, Woohyun stretched and sticky already. Every once in a while, Sungjong ghosts his free hand over Woohyun’s neglected cock, and Woohyun whimpers, needy and pathetic. It’s not enough - he _knows_ , Sungjong knows - this isn’t fair -

“What’s the matter?” Sungjong’s hair is falling in his face, but he’s so calm, so composed. Everyone else around them has gone back to just _watching_ , and it isn’t - that’s not - “Is it too much? Not enough?”

Woohyun huffs, frustrated enough to reach for his dick, but Sungjong smacks his hand away. “I want to help you, hyung,” he says, and Woohyun can’t really be angry at him, but the steadiness of his voice is infuriating. “But I can’t, unless you tell me what you-”

 _What you want_. Yeah, yeah, they’ve been asking him the whole time, he gets it - he knows what they’re trying to get from him -

and he finds, suddenly, almost blissfully, that he doesn’t give a shit anymore. “What I want, yeah,” he says, in between too-short breaths, “I want - more, God, _please_.”

There’s just the hint of a smile on Sungjong’s face. “Was that so hard,” he breathes, and he slips another finger inside, fucks into Woohyun like that for a minute -

“More?”

“Mmm-” Woohyun rocks his hips insistently. “More. Yeah - fuck,” he hisses, Sungjong’s fingers thrusting in deep before he pulls out a bit to work another in, slowly -

Woohyun’s breath gets caught in his throat - he feels stretched and open, and it burns a little, still, but not enough to make him want to stop. Sungjong leans over him, saying, “You look so good like this,” pressing his free hand flat to Woohyun’s chest, “You take it so well.”

Woohyun whines something unintelligible. Coherence is too much effort.

“Do you want to come like this?” Sungjong asks, and he’s still very calm, but Woohyun can tell he loves this. His eyes are so wide, his pupils blown - it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t, Woohyun is too messed up to care that he’s being fucked to pieces on Sungjong’s fingers alone, it feels like he’s been in this room forever and -

“Yeah, yeah,” he exhales, and Sungjong’s hand is smooth running down his chest. “Touch me.”

“Ask nicely.” Sungjong flicks his hair out of his eyes.

He doesn’t feel any compulsion not to. “Would you - please, touch me, please-”

Sungjong does, wrapping his free hand around him, and - fuck -

There are more hands on him now, one running over his chest, someone’s mouth on his neck, and if he just looked for a half second he could identify them, but he doesn’t care about knowing whose hands are whose anymore. His whole body is hot, sweat beading on his forehead, and the tension under his skin keeps building and building until -

nothing.

Sungjong pulls his fingers out, takes his hand from Woohyun’s cock. “Sorry, hyung,” he breathes, thumbing over Woohyun’s hipbones while Woohyun groans in frustration. “You can last a little longer, right? You’re not done yet.”

“Fuck, I-” He’s so tired and so on edge at the same time. He isn’t sure how long it’s been, but it feels like hours, like an eternity, and he just - “Okay,” he says, “yeah. I’m - yeah.”

“Good.” Sungjong is pink-faced, smiling faintly, as he crawls up the length of Woohyun’s body to kneel over his face. The angle sucks, but it doesn’t matter - Sungjong doesn’t last long, and he’s petting Woohyun’s hair mindlessly when he comes, Woohyun swallowing around him.

“Okay,” Woohyun says, as Sungjong climbs over him, a little wobbly-legged (Woohyun pats his thigh; Sungjong huffs). “Someone, seriously, let’s - let’s go-”

“So impatient,” Dongwoo says, teasing, sticking his hands under Woohyun’s shoulders to pull him up. “And you were so good with Sungjongie, too.”

Woohyun turns around to face him. Dongwoo and Sunggyu are both behind him; from this angle, he can’t see anyone else. “You two,” he says, and he knows his voice is breaking, no matter what he says, “Were you planning on - on fucking me any time this century?”

Dongwoo laughs. Sunggyu’s mouth is a thin line, the red in his cheeks betraying him. “Go ahead, hyung,” Dongwoo says, nudging Sunggyu’s arm with his elbow. “If you’re done freaking out.”

“I’m not freaking out!” Sunggyu protests.

“S’fine,” Woohyun says, leaning his head on Dongwoo’s shoulder. “You can both-”

Dongwoo has a hand on his back. “I’ll take a raincheck,” he says, and his voice and his hands are warm, and he’s been so _sweet_ , it’s terrible, Woohyun thinks he should buy him dinner or something after this. Do it all backwards. “I think you need a nap.”

“No fair,” Woohyun whines. Then he looks up, props his chin on Dongwoo’s shoulder. “Anyway, I don’t think he’s gonna do it.” He sticks his tongue out at Sunggyu. “What have you been doing this whole time, anyway? Watching? Did you like it? Were you jealous?”

“And here I thought you were getting nicer,” Sunggyu attempts to deadpan, but his voice cracks a little. It’s funny - Woohyun knows no one else has left the room, but everyone’s being so silent he almost forgets the rest of them are still there.

“Ah, seriously-” Dongwoo untangles from Woohyun and moves back, sitting up against the headboard. Woohyun can take a hint. Dongwoo’s hand rests on the inside of his bare thigh, and Woohyun crawls up between his legs to kiss it first, then peel it away, sliding his hands up Dongwoo’s legs.

“You want me to suck you off, then?” he asks.

Dongwoo’s hand drifts to the back of his neck. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah,” Woohyun breathes, nodding. He really, really does. But - “I want - I want you to tell me.” He swallows. “That you want me to.”

“Oh,” Dongwoo says.

“Please,” Woohyun adds. Nicely.

Dongwoo nods. “I want you to,” he says, his fingers tracing light circles on the skin of Woohyun’s neck. “I want your - your mouth on me, want you so bad, I-”

It’s enough. Woohyun feels flushed and elated when he wraps his lips around the head of Dongwoo’s cock. Dongwoo moans and keeps babbling, half sentences like - _so gorgeous, you look so, perfect, you’re incredible, Woohyun, Woohyun_ \- and Woohyun’s whole body responds to it, all his nerves on fire, his mind both hazy and sharply aware.

“See,” Dongwoo says, with some difficulty. “He likes it when - when you’re nice - to him, _ah_ , see -”

Sunggyu makes some kind of noise that Woohyun doesn’t attempt to categorize. Woohyun pulls off and looks at him, and Sunggyu stares at him for a second before he says, “Do you want...” with really none of the confidence he’d pretended to have when he pulled Woohyun down to the floor what seems like a hundred years ago.

“Honestly,” Woohyun says, leaning his forehead against Dongwoo’s stomach for a moment. “Do you need me to beg too? I didn’t - I didn’t think that would be what got you all off.”

Sunggyu shakes his head. He finally _moves_ , and Woohyun, satisfied, returns his focus to Dongwoo. He wants to do a better job this time, honestly, but he’s so fucked up by this point it’s difficult. At the very least, he makes an effort, swirling his tongue around the head before he takes Dongwoo’s cock as deep as he can, cheeks hollowed and eyes closed.

It takes an eternity for Sunggyu to touch him again, his hands on Woohyun’s ass, but Woohyun reflexively pushes back against the touch. It’s almost a blessing that Woohyun’s mouth is full, or he might be begging again, too needy to be defiant.

“Yeah, just-” Dongwoo encourages, stuttering, “Give - give it to him.”

“Fuck,” Sunggyu says, “okay, okay-”

When Sunggyu finally pushes into him, Woohyun moans around Dongwoo’s cock and Dongwoo’s grip on Woohyun tightens, a desperate noise ripped from his throat. After that, Woohyun pretty much gives up on good blowjob technique, but Dongwoo doesn’t seem to care. He’s still talking, sweet and nonsensical, and Sunggyu -

Maybe Sunggyu isn’t that powerful, relatively, but he’s fucking Woohyun like he needs it, like he’s been waiting for it, and it’s so good - at this point, it probably wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t. Woohyun is too far gone to be discerning. His dick is heavy underneath him and he’s a mess, maybe his eyes are watering - and he knows, as soon as someone touches him, this time -

Dongwoo comes first, gasping and holding onto Woohyun’s hair. Woohyun swallows it down the best he can, some of it running out of the corners of his mouth, and then he presses his face against Dongwoo’s skin as Sunggyu wraps an arm around his waist to get a hand on Woohyun’s cock. It’s - he’s so close, he can’t -

“Fuck,” Sunggyu chokes out, his voice somehow sounding almost as wrecked as Woohyun imagines his would now, “Woohyun-” and Woohyun is gone, just like that. For the longest moment, his head is just white noise, and he’s only dimly aware that Sunggyu doesn’t last long after him. All Woohyun hears is his name, repeated, and it feels just as warm as hands against his skin, and he feels, distantly, if only for a moment, that he doesn’t have anything to ask for.


End file.
